Fitz Don't Dance
by Don't Tell My Friends
Summary: Lots of words describe Leo Fitz. A "graceful dancer" wasn't one of them. Set in the past, present, and future.


**Spoilers for the Season 1 Finale! **

* * *

"This is ridiculous" Fitz complained as Simmons started the music. The slow, steady song begun it's melody and she closed the distance between them.

"A charity ball doesn't exactly happen every day, Fitz. Half of the senior staff at Sci-Ops will be there." Simmons reminded him. "Besides, we can't exactly stay cooped up in the lab all day."

Fitz scoffed at the idea. "We can so stay in the lab all day. Imagine the work we'll get done with everyone else out for the night!"

Simmons wasn't going to take no for an answer. She stubbornly took Fitz's hand and put her other hand on his shoulder.

"Shush, Fitz. You're just making excuses. Dancing isn't nearly as scary as you think."

Fitz tensed up even thinking about it. "Dancing itself? Of course not. Dancing _in front _of people, on the other hand..."

The waltz playing behind them picked up its tempo. Expectantly, Simmons raised an eyebrow and cued for Fitz to place his remaining free hand on her hip. Sighing in defeat, Fitz compiled and the two of them started stepping in time.

She showed him the basic footwork and made sure he knew how to properly move around the room. She had cleared the small living space as much as she could, but they still occasionally bumped into a coffee table here or there.

Fitz counted under his breath "One two, three. One two, three..."

Simmons giggled a bit. "You're thinking about this much too much! Just relax and be natural."

"Well excuse me!" He sounded annoyed, but Simmons could tell he wasn't actually irritated. "You might be Ms. Graceful Beauty over there, but some of us are trying to not trip themselves up."

He said it so quickly, she almost didn't hear it. But her heart skipped a little involuntary beat when he called her that name. Simmons knew he was just joking around, but being called beautiful and graceful by Fitz made her blush just enough to make her hope he wouldn't notice.

If he did notice, he didn't show it. Instead Fitz continued counting to the music.

If Simmons was honest with herself, helping her best friend Fitz practice dancing wasn't the whole reason she arranged this evening. An event they were invited to which _just so happened _to incorporate dancing was a nice convenient cover for her true objective. She saw him every day; she had since the Academy and certainly would for a long time after this. But so much of that was in a lab or working on an experiment. She cherished the nights when they would simply sit back and watch a movie, or when they could talk for hours about things that didn't really matter to anyone but themselves. Her brain would say that this was simply a matter of wanting to spend quality time with her best friend. But her heart screamed to her that it was more than that, even if her head wouldn't listen.

Simmons decided to shake it off and change the topic.

"So have you really never danced before, Fitz? Surely there was some girl back home you took to a school dance when you were younger."

"Never had much opportunity, really. Only wedding in the family was my Aunt's when I was a boy. And I didn't exactly have the courage to ask anybody to dance at those school things."

Simmons suddenly felt bad for prying, but cheered up when she realized that that meant _she_ was his first dance partner. Even if it was just for practice, she smiled knowing that she was sharing a milestone event with him. Feeling a bit more bold, she leaned down her head to rest against his chest.

"Sorry if I'm not the best companion for this type of thing." Fitz apologized.

"No, don't say that." She reassured him. "You're doing wonderful."

She felt him clutch her hand even tighter for that, and she unless she had imagined it, his heart raced a bit more against her cheek. She smiled, pretending that maybe he felt the same way about her than she felt for him.

But she certainly didn't imagine that he had definitely stopped counting his steps.

* * *

"I can barely walk and _this _is your daft idea?"

Fitz had come into his physical therapy room to find all the equipment pushed off to the sidelines. He gave Simmons one of his 'I can't believe you're serious' looks, but she shrugged it off. She was sure it was a good idea and nothing would convince her otherwise.

She helped Fitz lean off his crutches and stand up. After he sacrificed himself in the pod to save Simmons, Fitz had lost a lot of control of his legs and the two of them were hard at work trying to repair that damage.

"Dancing is going to be the best way to regain some dexterity in your leg muscles again." Simmons explained. "And your walking has greatly improved, don't be silly."

"Jemma, I'm not sure if-" his complaints were cut off by Simmons accessing a pad on the wall and activating the playlist she had prepared. The team's new base of operations had quite a few nice features that the two of them were having a blast working with. But now it seems the integrated sound system Fitz was so fond of was coming back to haunt him.

She put her arms around his neck, and his own hands found a familiar spot on her hips. She knew better than to be too formal.

"Just take it nice and easy and you'll be fine. Use me for support if need to."

"I always do, Jemma." Fitz laughed.

She sweetly smiled up at him. They really hadn't had much discussion about what he said in the pod, but they often had moments like this: a small touch, a loving glance, or a sweet nothing that let them both know it wasn't forgotten.

They lightly stepped back and forth. His legs felt sore and tired at first, but as they moved he slowly felt more comfortable. He didn't dare try to match the medium tempo set by the music, but he tried his best to move his feet in some sort of rhythm.

"That's it! You're doing very well!" Simmons was probably more excited than he was. "I imagine this might help you walk a bit more naturally. You could ditch those awful crutches."

"And I was just starting to like them." He joked. "I might keep using them anyway."

Fitz felt a little lighthearted as she laughed. She was so beautiful. If he was honest with himself, Fitz really didn't mind all the physical therapy he had to go through. He had been so close to Simmons for years, but only now did he feel like they were truly starting to embrace that connection. He remembered all the reasons he fell in love with her all over again.

"Listen, Jemma..." Fitz suddenly lost his nerve, but couldn't stop himself in time. He looked down and hoped she didn't hear him. But that ridiculous idea was thrown out right away.

"What is it, Fitz?" She could sense him tense up and was immediately worried.

"Just... thank you for helping me through all of this. I'm glad you put up with my crippled self."

Simmons knew it wasn't what he originally wanted to say, but played along. "Of course. You're my best friend in the whole world. I'd do anything for you. I love you, Leo."

Fitz perked up at his name. She never called him Leo. With very rare exception, he was always 'Fitz'. And in any other context, he might assume she was mad, or being formal. But here, he knew she was trying to grab his attention. Here, it meant she was absolutely serious.

Before he even quite knew what he was doing, he leaned forward and kissed her. She was a bit startled, but she recovered quickly and kissed him back. Her hands moved to his hair, and he closed the already small distance between them. They continued to sway back and forth together, but neither of them noticed that the music had ended some time ago.

* * *

"When I get out there and embarrass you, just remember this whole part was your idea." Fitz said with a smile.

Jemma laughed and clutched his hand a little tighter. Their brief moment of privacy was soon to be over.

"Well, after all, it is traditional during these sorts of events." she reminded him. "And honestly, you have nothing to be afraid of."

"Oh, I'm not afraid. Kinda looking forward to it, actually."

She was a bit surprised. "In all the years I've known you, never once have you been excited to dance in public."

"Dancing in public? Of course not. Dancing _with you, _on the other hand..."

She smiled at him and drew closer. They had come a long way in the past few years. Part of her knew, all those years ago, that they would both end up here. Fitz might say it was destiny, but she liked to think that there was simply no other conclusion to reach based on the facts. It was basically the same thing, but her way was certainly more scientific.

"I love you, Leo." Simmons said as she leaned in for a kiss.

They had barely pressed their lips together before they heard the music begin, their cue to enter the room from their little hiding spot. Jemma realized in surprise that the song wasn't the one she had selected. Instead, she recognized an old song she hadn't heard in a long time.

"I took the liberty." Fitz smugly interjected, reading her mind.

"This is the first song we ever danced to!" Simmons recalled. A few tears welled up but she fought them off. "I can't believe you remembered."

"I thought it was only fitting that the song that started it all usher us into the next chapter." Fitz explained.

Fitz pulled her onto the dance floor and they took up a stance that, by now, was all too familiar to them. Holding each other close, they waltzed to the old song as the group around them stood beaming. Jemma's white, flowing dress swayed to and from as they circled around.

She now couldn't help but cry against her new husband's chest. But he knew just what to say to his new wife.

"This song is the reason we're here, Jemma. I love you, and always will."

They danced together while their wedding guests watched on. A few years ago, he never would have dreamed he'd be dancing with his best friend on their wedding day. Or dancing at all, for that matter. But she changed all that. She was the most graceful and beautiful woman he'd ever seen, and a waltz here and there was a small price to pay to spend the rest of his life with her. He never did learn to like people watching when he danced, but here, holding his bride, letting the music carry their feet? Fitz didn't care one bit.


End file.
